


Before I Go

by theackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Badass, Big Brother Dean, Big Brother Gabriel, Big Brother Lucifer, Big Brother Michael, Bisexuality, Canon Gay Relationship, Clubbing, Cute Castiel, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dark Dean Winchester, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gay, Human Anna, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, Human Lucifer, Human Michael, Multi, Nerd Castiel, Nervous Castiel, Partnership, Past Violence, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Sexual Violence, Shy Castiel, Violence, sister anna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2535641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theackles/pseuds/theackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“In this top hat, I have all of your names on individual pieces of paper. I’m going to randomly choose two people and you two will be partners for this assignment. After you have your partner’s name, I want you to go find him or her, and then I will tell you the guidelines for the paper.”</p><p>In a monotonous choir, everyone mumbled out an ok, and Trinkett started pushing her hand down into the hat.</p><p>Dean was beginning to fall asleep when he heard his name.</p><p>“...is with Castiel Milton,”</p><p>And that is pretty much when Dean Winchester's entire world went haywire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this beginning chapter, there is drinking/mentions of drinking. Just a warning. Kudos and comments are much appreciated! I love writing human/domestic Dean&Cas :)

If there was one thing Dean Winchester was sure of, it was he _loved_ Jack Daniels and _adored_ blue eyes almost as much...scratch that – _more._ In a drunken haze where everything was blurry and disorienting and slightly confusing, those goddamn blue eyes were the only things he could make out.

He didn’t know the guy. Hell, he wasn’t even _near_ the guy. The club was packed, the people were sweaty, the music was loud, the bar was full of drunk guys hitting on the hot blond, and the only thing putting off light in the entire place was the outrageous rainbow flashing strobe light, and through all of that while he was drunk off his ass, Dean could make out those piercing blue eyes all the way across the club.

And what was so intensely stupid and hot and mind-boggling about the entire fucking situation was the guy was _reading_. He was also incredibly well-aware of Dean’s watchful eye across the joint, but he was _reading_. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the midst of sweaty, half-naked young adults grinding around him.

Drunk, Dean would usually have a world’s worth of courage. He could bitch-slap the president drunk, if he wanted to, but as shit-faced as he was, he couldn’t even stand up to go ask the guy if he wanted to dance or if he could buy him a drink.

Dean swore he knew the guy. Eyes like that, he could never imagine forgetting. He couldn’t put a name to his face though, and in this whole new drunken light, the guy was really fucking hot and Dean knew he’d never forget his face after this.

And then...Dean woke up in a dingy motel room with a busty brunette woman laying naked beside of him. For some reason he felt...disappointed. A strange pair of blindingly blue eyes seemed to catch his memory, although he couldn’t distinctly remember what happened the night before.

His head was pounding, like someone was taking a hammer to every inch of his head. He didn’t plan on leaving a stupid note or even telling the girl he was leaving. It seemed pointless – he didn’t know her and probably would never sleep with her again. He shoved his legs through the holes in his jeans and pushed his feet into his boots. He threw his shirt on as he left, grabbing his keys on the way out.

It was a perfect Friday morning outside and all Dean really wanted to do was sit in a deep, dark, hole that was sound proofed and warm. He had stupid college classes to take today. He found his ‘67 Chevy Impala sitting outside, parked messily, and wondered just how fucking trashed he actually was last night. He never drove Baby drunk.

The drive back to his shitty apartment complex was short enough. He took a shower, ate a somewhat appetizing breakfast, changed into a decent pair of clothes, took a lot of advil, and was on his way to class. As he pulled into the school’s parking lot, he grabbed a pair of sunglasses from his glove compartment and slid them on, effectively hiding the bright, unforgiving rays of the California suns.

The school he attended was Stanford. How he managed it, he didn’t know. His little brother, Sam, talked about it like it was a place of Gods. When Dean mentioned going back to school, Sam somehow pulled a few strings and got Dean a full ride too. Dean discreetly wondered who Sam sucked off, or fingered, or who knows – killed – to get Dean that scholarship.

Sam was going to be a lawyer, and those classes were in a different building, so Dean didn’t really see much of Sam outside of their apartment complex or when they hanged out on their free days with Sam’s girlfriend and Dean’s imaginary girlfriend – preferably boyfriend, but hey, he could swing both ways.

Dean actually had no idea what he was going to school for, really. He had to take the basic education classes before making a real decision, anyways, so he supposed it bought him a year of thinking.

His general English class was on the fourth floor of this god forsaken building, and the elevator was down, so he had to haul himself up the stairs. Normally he wouldn’t mind, but this was an exception.

General English class was run by an old British woman – Mrs. Trinkett – funnily enough. She was nice enough, sometimes too strict for Dean, but he got good grades so he tried not to cop too much of an attitude with her. She smiled at him warmly like usual when he walked in, sipping from her coffee mug that probably had tea in it with a tiny wave from her ringed finger. Dean gave her a polite nod and took his normal seat.

Ten minutes later, Trinkett stood to shut the door, signalling class was beginning, when an incredibly, but hazy, familiar face rushed in, practically knocking the old lady over in his panic of being late.

“I’m so sorry!” He gasped, reaching over to steady her body, smoothing her old sweater down her arms as if he’d wrinkled them profusely and was putting them back to their pristine order. “I am seriously so sorry.”

“It— it’s alright, Castiel,” Trinkett laughed, brushing past this Castiel to shut the door. “Please, go take a seat.”

Castiel turned, and immediately the drunk memories flowed back to him when Castiel’s vibrant blue eyes met his moss green ones. Dean remembered Castiel reading in the middle of a popular club. He remembered connecting his eyes to those bright, bright blue ones several times. He remembered Castiel’s blush when Dean was admittedly just too drunk to look away, but soon he just didn’t want to. Dean had a new crush on his eyes, and now that they were in regular lighting, he could look at the rest of him, too.

Castiel whipped past him before Dean could do much looking though, rushing towards the back of the classroom with a satchel in his hands, books threatening to spill from them.

In the midst of Castiel’s rush, Dean got a full blown whiff of his scent. As weird as Dean knew it was, he inhaled – deeply.

Castiel smelled of mint and black coffee and fresh linen. It was an incredibly inviting smell, and Dean quickly realized he wanted to smell it again. Unfortunately, it had wafted away from him, his air smelling like chemical-y air freshener.

And then...class droned on, and on, and on. Dean never thought they’d be able to leave. They were five damn minutes away from their dismissal time when Trinkett pulled out a large, Abraham Lincoln style top hat from behind her desk, a bright smile on her wrinkled face.

“Before I let you all go, you know that we have a big English assignment due in December.” She began, walking around to stand front and center in the room. “I know none of you are excited for it, but it is a requirement, so I decided to make it a dash bit more fun for you all.” Dean found her accent was a dash bit overbearing with his hangover.

But she continued, despite.

“In this tophat, I have all of your names on individual pieces of paper. I’m going to randomly choose two people and you two will be partners for this assignment. After you have your partner’s name, I want you to go find him or her, and then I will tell you the guidelines for the paper.”

In a monotonous choir, everyone mumbled out an ok, and Trinkett started pushing her hand down into the hat.

Dean was beginning to fall asleep when he heard his name.

“...is with Castiel Milton,”

**And that is pretty much when his entire world went haywire.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all your kudos and your comments! Here is another chapter, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> As usual, more kudos and comments are much appreciated! <3

Castiel Milton, Dean soon realized, is clumsy, uncoordinated, stutters, blushes, and has a ton of knowledge crammed in that raven-haired head of his. Right after Dean’s name was called,

“...is with Castiel Milton,”

There was a thump, and then a small “shit”, and then a very clumsy Castiel trying to weave his way through all the people to sit in the seat Dean’s bag currently occupied. Dean was swift to move his bag out of the way, but that didn’t stop Castiel from tripping over the foot of the chair and snagging a piece of his satchel on the corner of it, resulting in most – all – of his books flying all over the floor in one loud THUMP. Dean genuinely felt embarrassed for him and knelt down, scooping up all the books that Castiel hadn’t already and put them in a neat pile on the desk in front of them.

“Th— Thank you,” Castiel stuttered out, either a nervous wreck or a bad stutter problem. He sat down in the chair and for a moment he stopped being a jittery, shaking mess, and he lifted his head to meet eyes with Dean.

And Jesus Christ – they were the eyes from the club. Deep blue, like the ocean or something, except bluer, deeper, too, maybe. Castiel blushed deeply and bowed his head, staying silent the entire rest of the random name picking.

When Mrs Trinkett finished, she gave Castiel and Dean a small glance, then continued, “Now that everyone’s with their partners, let me tell you about this assignment.”

Then, like a fucking nightmare, she wrote Shakespeare on the chalkboard.

“I want a detailed report on William Shakespeare and one of his pieces. Tell me all the information you can dig up on him, and then choose a piece, and tell me what inspired it and everything you can then dig up on that. I expect this report to be at least four pages long in full paragraphs and correct grammar, spelling, and punctuation. If you know nothing of Shakespeare, I suggest you get started soon, because there is a lot to know.”

Dean grunted, and from beside of him, he heard a small, deep voice.

“Do you not like William Shakespeare?”

He turned and saw Castiel looking at him from under his eyelashes. Like an instinct – which it was but Castiel was also hot – his dick twitched. Dean cleared his throat softly and shook his head.

“I’m not into that shit.”

Castiel bit down hard on his bottom lip with very white teeth and seemed to curl back up inside his nervous shell, his mouth clamping shut with a curt nod, his blue eyes dropping from Dean’s green ones.

Dean didn’t want the fleeting moment to go. “Do you like him?” As he asked, Trinkett dismissed them, and he grabbed his bag from the floor to stand.

Castiel nervously shoved all his books in his satchel and secured it around a shoulder, and then nodded. “Very much. He’s one of my favorites.”

They exited the classroom together while Dean tried to think of something to reply with. How was he supposed to? Cool? Soon, he didn’t have to, because Castiel spoke up again, his voice quivering.

“You— You don’t have to write anything. I have all the information on Shakespeare, and since you don’t like him, I— I could just do the report and put your name on it,”

Dean frowned deeply. “That would be cheating, and unfair,” he took a side glance over to Castiel who was nervously plucking at his blue sweater. “I can write my parts, it’s okay...but thank you for the offer. It’s very, um…” Dean tried to think of the word. “Selfless of you.”

Castiel tried to hide a smile, and nodded, lifting his head to look up into Dean’s eyes.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean stopped in the middle of the hallway, “Can I call you that?” Castiel nodded, the name Cas flipping over and around in his head. He liked it. It was different from other nicknames. “Do you want to go get coffee or something tomorrow? We can start working on it then....get to know each other, so it’ll be less awkward.”

Cas blushed deeply and gave a small nod. “I’d like that.”

“Good— I mean, cool, great,” Dean coughed, scratching the back of his head. “I can come get you. Is about five okay?”

Castiel nodded once more. “Five is great.” Dean began to turn away to head towards the parking lot that held Baby when Castiel spoke up again. “Dean?” He turned sharply – almost too sharply – on his heel to look back at Cas. “Thank you...very much.”

Dean smiled, a blush now creeping up on his own cheeks. “No problem, Cas. I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah...see you then.”

Castiel turned to walk in the other direction where the bus stop was, his stomach erupting in butterflies, millions of them. His face was hot and his sweater was almost suffocating, but as soon as he stepped out into the late October air, he was thankful for it’s warmth.

When he heard his name being called after Dean’s, his mind flashed back to the night before – at the club. He remembered his intense stare, never ending, unforgiving. Castiel thought he was going to come over, but he didn’t, instead ordering another drink and getting distracted by a brunette with big boobs. Castiel had felt disappointment rush through him.

Anna, his sister, and her friend, Meg, had practically dragged him out of his comfortable studio apartment on a Thursday night to party like there was no tomorrow – or in his case, like there was no class the next day. He hated partying. The only partying he did willingly was children’s birthday parties, and even then, he felt out of his element. In the midst of getting dressed for said party – which really didn’t consist of anything out of the ordinary for him, just a sweater and some jeans and a pair of boots – he’d shoved a book in his sweater and smuggled it in like drugs and sat back in the far corner reading all night. Or, well, trying to. It was hard focusing on the intensity of Wuthering Heights with Nicki Minaj yelling about...something and the lighting being less than appropriate for reading. Every now and then he’d get a flash of bright white, illuminating his book’s words perfectly, but it was flashing to red, then green, then blue before he could even find his place.

And then...he felt his eyes. Or someone’s eyes. Castiel had glanced up, feeling it, and after a moment searching, he found those intense eyes. He couldn’t exactly tell what color they were from afar, but god he could tell they were beautiful with how well they took to the color of the lights.

Castiel was a nervous wreck most of the time. He was anxiety stricken, with usually shaky hands, and a stutter. His eyes were always too wide, too scared looking, and he couldn’t hold a glass of water still if his life depended on it, so the last thing he knew he was going to do was get up and talk to the guy. He tried to focus on reading, on the words, but the gaze had been far too wild, and their eyes met again.

The guy was a model, or he could pass for one. His hair was light under the lights and he had a square jaw, covered in a shadow, and beautifully full lips. Castiel wanted him to come over, save him from his horrible night, but the guy only stared, until a busty brunette came in front of him and captured the guy’s attention.

Perhaps he’d just been staring off into space, in Castiel’s general direction. Castiel sighed – probably – and tried to get back to his book. Now, he didn’t even want to read, he just wanted to go home.

The bus was late, per usual, and Castiel clambered on, almost tripping over the steep, tall steps and through the opened doors. He gripped his bag tightly, digging through it to find his money. When he finally fished out enough, he wandered towards the back where it was a bit less crowded, but he had to stand up nonetheless. Being by the school, this bus was always most crowded.

He remembered to hold tightly ever large bump or dip they passed, the same as every other day when he needed this bus. His hands tightened on the rail as they dipped, almost knocking him off his feet, and then pulling up to his less-than-nice apartment building.

Castiel’s parents were well off enough. Enough to supply funding towards Castiel’s education major. He’d changed majors twice already – his initial career choice was a doctorate degree, but then he found his new love for little kids and decided he wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, which meant general education classes all the way up to high school math. His parents didn’t pay for the apartment though. His sister, Anna, offered her place, which she shared with Meg, but Castiel was a man of privacy. He paid for a $300 monthly bill for a studio apartment with all of the utilities paid, apart from water.

It was a ratty looking building. The bricks were reddish brown, and around the corner, there was some faded graffiti and a lot of dead shrubs and failed flower gardens. More than once, Castiel wanted to fix them up, bring life into the place, but where he was marked as a temporary resident on his lease, he wasn’t allowed to decorate in front of his apartment, sadly.

Castiel wondered to himself what Dean’s apartment looked like. He imagined it very guyish, messy, but organized. Nothing like his.

Castiel was a neat-freak, but somehow his apartment always ended up in clutter. He dropped his bag down on the floor and examined the place. The couch was a bit ruffled and chaotic, the reddish brown of the material a bit wrinkled, and his kitchen had a few unwashed dishes in the sink. The wooden floor was clean enough, but the cobwebs were forming in the corners of the light blue-grey room.

He stumbled through his house, suddenly really tired, and collapsed onto his bed. It was only early afternoon, but a nap didn’t seem too much to ask for, and before Castiel could push himself up to get something done, sleep hit him like a wall and he was a snoring mess.

On the other side of town, Dean was startled awake from a much needed nap to rid himself of the rest of his hangover by a knock on the door. He sighed, and hauled himself up, just to greet his very tall, lanky brother.

“Hey.” Sam said, stepping inside, a blond girl trailing behind him.

“Hey,” Dean grunted, and spotted her, “Hey, Jess,”

Sam’s girlfriend nodded, a smile on her face. “Hey, Dean. Hangover?” She noticed the coffee and the tossed sunglasses and the bags under his eyes.

“Yeah, a shitty one,” he collapsed back down into the armchair and rubbed at his face. “What’re you guys doing here? I thought today was date night.”

Jess always seemed to blush at the mention of date night. Sam tugged her to his side as he spoke. “We decided to move it to tomorrow. There’s this new place opening up.”

“And we were wondering if you wanted to come,” Jessica interjected before Sam could. Dean frowned deeply and stared up at them from his seat.

“Me? Why? I don’t have anyone to take.” He scoffed slightly, but bright blue eyes flashed across his mind, and he found himself wondering. Maybe Cas would be down with it...but...I should really wait till I know the guy. “You guys go, I might catch you guys next week.”

Sam raised his eyebrows as he sat, Jess right behind him. “Next week? You eyeballing someone, or somethin’?”

“Something,” Dean grumbled, but he had to elaborate. “I swear, I’ve been having classes with the guy for over half a year, and I’m just now noticing.”

Jess ‘oooh’ed from beside Sam, “What’s her name?” Dean hesitated. They knew his preferences. Jess caught on and her eyebrows shot up like Sam’s. “His name?”

Dean picked at his fingernails. “Castiel...Milton. Castiel Milton.”

“I’ve never heard that name.” Sam frowned deeply. “Maybe he’s new.”

Jess interjected. “Brownish black hair, blue eyes?” Sam sat back, confused, while Dean nodded, the picture of Castiel’s blushing face entering his mind. “Yeah...I know him. We had nursing classes together. We talked sometimes during class, and he ended up switching majors. But that’s all I know about the guy.” Jess stopped for a moment, seemingly done, until she added. “He’s real cute.”

Dean blushed and tried to keep his girl side under control, but he nodded, maybe a little bit too enthusiastically. God, he felt like a damn girl, blushing and giggling over a guy he just met.

“Are you introduce us?” Sam asked, a teasing smile on his lips. Jess slapped his chest, but her smile said the same thing.

“I just met the guy.” Dean huffed, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Maybe.”

Jess let out a squeal, “Our Dean finally has a crush! Oh, the world must be ending!”

“Or beginning,” mumbled Sam, a derpy smile on his face. He was happy for his big brother. If Dean could feel the way Sam felt with Jess around, he wanted that for his brother. He knew he deserved it. He glanced down at the time on his watch. “Oh, we gotta go, Jess’s sister is coming over later.”

“Oh, right!” Jess jumped up and ran over to Dean, kissing his head, “Good luck with Castiel! Update us!”

**“Bye, guys,” Dean grumbled, and then the door shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts.**


End file.
